Thank you, and a million more times thank you. You were just like any other person in that store, but you have a kinder heart, you were the one to reach out. He was struggling to roll his wheelchair through the one door I held open, as his nerve damage was getting progressively worse in his hands as well. I had told him I could either set my bags in his lap and push his chair or he could roll himself. Taking only one look at my bags, he began to struggle forward.People were lining up behind him, ready to be on their way. They all gave him that look, the one I hate. That look of pity and occasionally the one of disgust because he was different, because he was slower than they. You didn’t give him that look. Out of all those people, you,on your way into the store, held the other door open and told him he had a grand gateway now. When you saw him, saw his trouble you grabbed the chairs handles and starting pushing the chair. You looked at me and you asked me where my car was. You pushed him all the way there, back through the parking lot that you had just come from. You offered to help him in the car, but I had to deny your kindness. I would have felt awful had he strained your back or stepped on your foot as he often does to other people, unintentionally of course. You leaned down and you looked at his leg braces, you exchanged a knowing look with me and then put your hand on his shoulder. You called him buddy. You told him not to worry, it’s not always bad and then you let him feel your metal legs. Then you walked back into the store. I don’t know your name, I’ll more than likely never see you again, but thank you stranger, a million times thank you.